Stars
by BittersweetWhispers1
Summary: Van mysteriously finds himself on the Mystic Moon with one thought; to find Hitomi Kanzaki. But why is he there? And why do these strange shadows threaten him?
1. Part I

**A/N:** This was written on a fic challenge from Rai Dorian. Thanks for the inspiration. This is a two-part story. Part 2 will follow shortly.

**Disclaimer:** I dont own Escaflowne.

**Stars**

It was cold. And dark. So dark that though the stars made a relentless effort to shine from their frigid homes in the sky, they could just barely make themselves seen. _Stars._ They weren't quite right, he noticed as he gazed up. A cold wind brushed across his skin, tickling the sweat that covered his body and causing him to shiver. This wasn't Gaea, he realized with cold clarity. Only one moon hung in the sky.

He couldn't remember how he had come here. He'd been in the midst of something important, but now it seemed to have slipped his mind. He looked around, eyes searching for some hint of reason, or, at least, of familiarity. A large, paved circle was placed in what would otherwise have been an open field. Behind him was a massive, brick building, which was rather plain. A few dim lights were attached to the building, but rather than illuminate the area, they only served to deepen the shadows. He found himself fearing those shadows, but he wasn't sure why.

The place was strange, but not wholly unfamiliar. He had been here before, he knew, though it had been a long, long time ago. This was the place he had met _her_. The memory came back to him clearly now. A skinny girl with short, cropped hair. He hadn't even been sure she was a girl. She'd been so loud, crying and berating him over the silliest things. And there had been the strange people around her, babbling on in some non-sensible language.

This time was quite different, however. There was no crying girl, no strange people he couldn't understand. There was no one. The field was completely empty.

He returned his gaze to the sky, searching the stars for some direction, some placement of where he was. There was a flash of light, outshining the pale and twinkling dots. It shot across the darkened landscape, shooting with reckless abandon as if desperately running away, or towards something. He watched it go, streaking the sky with a trail of stardust.

He decided to follow it. Any direction was better than no direction at this point. He began to walk, at first taking long strides in the hope of covering the distance faster, but then slowing when it seemed this journey had no end in sight. The neatly paved streets were devoid of human life, of any life, it seemed. Not a cricket chirped nor a cat meowed. Even the wind seemed unnaturally quiet. The buildings he passed were narrow and tall, much like the dwellings in his own country, but here, numerous wires crisscrossed above, creating a sort of mesh canopy overhead. The street seemed busy and crowded with all these wires and strange objects crammed here and there, even despite the lack of people.

His feet abruptly stopped, as if deciding they had finally finished their journey, and he looked up, eyes heavy and tired as they settled upon the strange building before him.

It was a temple, of that much, he was certain. A large wooden gate marked the entrance, rising high above him. Beyond lay a stone path, the trees barely peaking out from the sides as if to insist they still had their place.

Wind chimes broke the stillness of the night, their gentle ringing the only sound he had heard in some time. He wasn't sure how long or far he'd walked. He felt that he'd walked miles and that several hours must have passed, but the moon held its same place and he knew that the endless night and strange silence had probably made the journey seem longer than it really had been. But he was tired. However long the journey had been, it had taken its toll. He crossed through the gate, ignoring the shiver that ran through his body. The chill of the night air had long since entered his bones.

Strength seemed to drain from his muscles as he moved, each step becoming heavier as he walked on. The main temple lay beyond, beckoning to him, its stone steps offering a welcome haven. But it seemed so far and his body threatened to leave him stranded on the path. He couldn't remember ever having felt so tired or so cold. Determinedly, he forced his feet to move, until, with slow, shaking steps, he finally ascended the stairs and collapsed against one of the columns. His eyes drifted shut as he breathed the night air heavily. His body screamed for rest, and even as he tried to adjust, it refused to obey him. He finally gave in, letting his weight sit against the column as he wrapped his arms tightly about himself to keep out the cold.

The chimes were ringing gently in the night breeze. Their tiny bells became a melody, lulling his mind to quiet repose. He was not usually given to musical appreciation, but he enjoyed their rhythmless song. Cold but gentle hands brushed his skin. He accepted their caress without question, only opening his eyes when the weariness had finally begun to leave his bones.

There was only darkness before him. Long and unending darkness. His mind grew quickly alert and he brushed at his face. There was nothing that he could see, no one around and yet he could still feel the chill lingering upon his flesh. He stared into the darkness, eyes wide, until two blazing eyes glared back at him. He froze, fear clutching at his heart, and found himself unable to move, even to look away. More eyes appeared, glowing in the darkness, surrounding him, suffocating him. Invisible hands pulled at his skin, at his hair, dragging him down. He could feel their—its—breath upon him, hot, wet, far too close for comfort, tickling his skin and washing over his face.

"Van," the voice whispered in his ear. He imagined it mocking him, tormenting him with his inability to defend himself. "Van," it repeated insistently. "Van!" And with that last syllable, the paralysis suddenly lifted and he let one heavy hand fly, gaining momentary satisfaction when it connected with a soft, fleshy body, feeling it bow before his superior strength. But it was a woman's voice that called out, high, full of surprise, and painfully familiar.

The girl rose slowly, pushing herself up from the stone floor as she tried to straighten her clothes. She turned her face to him, her gaze falling upon his form in a mixture of shock and bewilderment.

"It _is_ you," she breathed, her lips trembling so that the words came out mumbled. "Van?" she questioned when he didn't move.

He _couldn't_ move. He was frozen, in as much shock as she and his mind was far too preoccupied with trying to determine if she was real to be bothered with speech. It was a long moment before he answered her question with a word of his own. "Hitomi." It made her real, that single word. And he clutched tightly to the reality now before him.

"Van, why—how are you here? Why are you _here_? What's going on?" Her questions came tumbling from her mouth without thought.

"Hitomi," he repeated, rising quickly and encircling her in his arms. He rested his head on her shoulder, burying his face in the soft fabric of her coat. She stiffened at the sudden contact, blushing at the closeness and becoming suddenly unsure and awkward.

"Va-Van," she stammered, "we can't stay here."

It was then that he looked up, and, for the first time, took in the layout of the place in the revealing light of day. He was suddenly struck by how strange and foreign it was to him—the tiny shops and characters he couldn't read, the strangely dressed people passing by, and the sharp, incessant noises that seemed to surround them. He clutched tighter to her.

She helped him rise, his arms still wrapped around her shoulders. "Van . . . you can let me go now." He did so reluctantly, letting one hand remain attached to her arm for support. They were attracting a lot of attention, he realized. Passersby were stopping to stare at the young couple. Was it so strange for them to be together? "Van!" He looked down at the girl beside him, puzzled for a moment by worry in her face. "Are you alright?"

"Alright?" he repeated in confusion. He followed her gaze down to his clothing, where dark brownish-red spots had stained his clothing and the light armour he wore.

"Are you injured?"

"No," he said quietly, thinking for a moment on where that blood had come from. "No, I'm not. It's not mine." She seemed relieved, if not wholly convinced. "We should go," he reminded her.

She gripped his arm tightly, pulling him along behind her as they made their way quickly out of the temple grounds. He was struck by how much stronger she was than he remembered, how much more sure of herself. He had recognized her instantly, but, in fact, this was not the same Hitomi he had known. _It's been a long time_, he realized.

The temple did not seem typical, he noticed as they walked by. "Hitomi . . . where are we?"

She slowed for a moment to look back at him. "Senkaguji Temple." She noticed him looking over the gravestones. "Those are the samurai graves."

"How did you find me here?"

She walked slower, relaxing her grip on his arm. "I was just here for a visit. I had no idea you'd be here."

They didn't speak much after that on the way. He wasn't sure if it was because she simply had nothing to say to him or because she didn't want to speak to him. His presence seemed to be an intrusion on her. She led him on a strange journey through the city, on crowded transportation, where they were so tightly crammed together he could barely breathe, and yet, even then she said nothing. She didn't speak a word to him until they arrived at the tiny apartment she called home.

It seemed cramped, like most other things in this place, though it was clean and sparsely decorated. He sat in the middle of the floor—it seemed as good a place as any—and slowly began to peel away the layers of armour and clothing. Hitomi brought him a damp cloth and he wiped away the blood and dirt that stuck to his skin. He looked as though he'd been in a battle, but his body showed no hint of damage. It was strange, but as it was not something to be lamented, he quickly forgot it.

"Van Fanel. Lover of war," Hitomi commented dryly, when he dropped the blood stained rag on the floor beside him.

"No, I'm not," he protested. "I didn't—I don't ever want to see a war again. I've had enough for one lifetime."

"I'm sorry," she apologized quickly. "That was a bad joke."

"You live here?" he asked her, changing the subject. "Alone?" he added, when he noticed the absence of any other person in the place.

Hitomi nodded with a smile. "About a year now. It gets a bit lonely, but I'm glad I have my own space."

He sat there and stared at her for a long moment. She didn't blush at his bare chest, didn't turn away from his gaze. The Hitomi he remembered would have. "It's been a long time, hasn't it?"

She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Eight years. I'd almost forgotten . . . I mean, not really forgotten, it's just . . . it all seemed like a dream. I never saw you again, I didn't think I ever would, and I started to think, maybe I never had, maybe I just made it all up. Like a child who's too attached to her imaginary friend."

He reached out a hand, sliding it along the side of her face. "Not a dream. I've never forgotten."

She blushed and looked away. He smiled mischievously. _That_ was the Hitomi he remembered. "How is everyone?" she asked suddenly. "Merle? And Allen? Fanelia must be rebuilt by now. I'm sure it's lovely."

"Fanelia—" he began and suddenly stopped short. Something had happened in Fanelia, something important. The thought nagged at his mind. "Fanelia . . . everyone . . . is well," he finished slowly. There was no need to concern her, certainly not with something he couldn't even remember. "There's peace now. Zaibach was stripped of her armies and her military weapons destroyed. There will never be another war." _Zaibach_. _It had been something about Zaibach_, he thought.But what was there to fear? They had ensured that Zaibach would never again be able to raise an army. The country was still scrambling to pull itself together after the devastation the war had wrought.

He stood suddenly, shakily, and Hitomi instantly went to support him. "Van, you don't look well. Maybe you should lie down." He was about to protest, but found his head spinning, and decided that rest would probably be beneficial. He nodded and let her lead him to her bedroom where she helped him lay down on the small bed. He almost laughed when he found his feet hanging over the end. Small indeed.

"You've grown up," Hitomi smiled. "I don't remember you being this tall."

"So have you," he returned. "I don't remember you being so . . . " His eyes settled just below her neck and he stopped short. He chuckled and turned away. "Never mind."

She leaned over him, brushing away the strands of dark, unruly hair from his face. "Van . . . why are you here?"

The question caught him off guard. It was obvious, wasn't it? He felt slightly offended that she didn't know. "I wanted to see you."

"But how did you get here?"

"I don't know," he replied thoughtfully. "I just wanted to see you."

She puzzled over his answer for a moment, before shaking the thought from her mind. She rose from his side, when she suddenly felt a tug on her shirt.

"Stay."

"You're supposed to be resting," she reminded him.

"I can rest with you here. Stay," he repeated.

She sighed, finally detaching her clothes from his grip and moved over to a reading chair in the corner. "I'll stay. But you _have_ to rest."

He grinned and shut his eyes tightly. Hitomi rolled her eyes, leaning back in the chair and watching as he lay quietly on her bed. She was happy to see him. She had wanted to for so long, she couldn't be anything but happy to see him. But she couldn't shake that strange feeling of dread that something wasn't quite right.


	2. Part II

**A/N:** To Sakura, Esca-Lover, and Macky . . . thank you so much for reviewing! You people made my day. :)

**Disclaimer:** Still don't own anything. And credit goes to Rai Dorian for giving me the idea.

* * *

**Part II **

_"My king, they are gathering in the city."_

_Van turned to the man who spoke. It was one of his guards, a tall, older man who had been in his service many years. But his vision seemed cloudy. He couldn't quite make out his face. "How many of them?" Van asked._

_"A hundred. More. They are growing in numbers."_

_"I'll take a small force and meet them. We can't allow this to spread."_

_"With the Escaflowne, my king?"_

_"No!" Van returned sharply. "I won't awaken Escaflowne for such a trivial matter."_

_"Take the armour, King Van," the man insisted. _

_"Don't give me orders!" he snapped. "They're just—" He stopped. The man's face had disappeared and been replaced with an empty black spot. He stared in confusion for a moment, but the blackness was strangely ominous and, fearfully, he tried to back away. He couldn't move. Something was holding him down. He looked back to the darkness, but it had leaked out of the soldier's face and was spreading like liquid, running over the floor and onto the walls until it absorbed every last thing in sight. It wrapped around him, pulling on his arms, his legs, dragging him down, down into its darkened depths._

He suddenly jolted himself awake, nearly toppling from the bed. It was dark, and he felt his heart freeze, until he noticed a small sliver of light that peaked through the curtains. He rose from the bed and pulled the curtains aside, letting the moonlight wash over his body and bathe the room in a soft glow. It fell upon the young woman who was curled up in the chair beside the bed, sleeping soundly.

He knelt beside her, his face so close to hers he could see the tiny freckles on her skin, the gentle curve of her lashes, even the bit of chapped skin on her lips, every tiny little imperfection that made her altogether real in his eyes, and invariably perfect in that reality. He brushed a calloused hand against her cheek, his fingers drawing a trail from her temple, down to her lips, lingering there for a moment before they continued their path down her chin, her throat, finally resting across her chest, over her heart. His breathing slowly deepened to match hers as he took in the gentle rise and fall of her chest and her heartbeat filled his ears. It was a steady and quiet beat, comforting in its gentle rhythm. _This is why I came back._

He felt her waken beneath his hand. Her eyes fluttered open and fixated on his. She pulled away, clearly uncomfortable at being so close to him. "Hi," she murmured. She couldn't think of anything else to say and they both chuckled at the awkwardness.

"You are why I came back."

She blushed deeply and was glad that the shadows obscured the colour of her cheeks. At least, she hoped it did. From the mischievous smile on his lips, she was sure he must be enjoying her discomfort.

"I want to stay here, Hitomi," he continued quietly. "With you."

"What?"

"I'm not going back to Fanelia. I'm staying here."

"Van, you can't do that," she reminded him gently. "You have to go back."

"I was brought here for a reason. I think I should stay."

"You can't—"

"But I want to stay with you!" He grabbed her arms, pulling her down beside him and trying to draw her closer.

"Van, stop!" she yelled, slapping him hard across the face. It hadn't really hurt him, she knew it wouldn't, but it caused him to stop anyway.

He looked away dismally. "Why?"

"I haven't even seen you in eight years and now this? What's going on?"

"I came back for you," he insisted. He leaned forward, letting her hair tickle his face and breathing in the scent.

She held out a hand, pushed him away and kept him there. "Van, don't."

"But why?" he asked again.

"Because I said no!" she snapped irritably. "Don't you think that this is just a little strange? Something isn't right here and you're not even worried!"

"What's to be worried about?" he grumbled, turning away.

"How did you get here? Where did that blood on your armour come from?"

"I don't remember!"

"Why not?"

"I don't know! I just can't!" He clutched his head, sinking to the floor and staring miserably at it. His head hurt. It hurt to think. It hurt to try to remember. Why did she need an explanation anyway? Wasn't it enough that he was here for her?

"Van . . . what happened in Fanelia?"

"I don't remember," he whispered.

She reached out to encircle his huddled form. And the moment they touched, her vision began. She hadn't had one in years, hadn't needed to. So when she felt that strange sensation of falling, of being enveloped inside her own head, she welcomed it as she would a sweet memory. Her sight opened into darkness. Long, empty, unending darkness. She searched for some sign of life, for anything other than the darkness, but it absorbed her vision, surrounded her like a thick cloak, prying at her senses, begging to be let in.

"Hitomi." The sound of her name startled her back to reality. "Hitomi," Van repeated, hands clasping the side of her face. She was trembling.

She pushed herself back, hands still clutching at his arms, as her gaze dropped to the floor. She couldn't look at him. Tears were stinging her eyes and she didn't want him to see her cry. "Van," she finally managed. Her voice shook and she had to take a deep breath to continue. "Your future . . . it's dark."

"Dark?"

She nodded. "It's not there. There's nothing there. Van . . . what happened—"

He wrapped his arms around her tightly, squeezing to reassure himself that she was there. He buried his face on her shoulder, in the crook on her neck, nuzzling his nose against her bare skin. She was small, with bones so tiny he thought they might break beneath his weight, but he could feel the strength within her and he held to it. "I don't—" he started, stumbling over his words. He shut his eyes. "I don't understand how I came here, I don't know why, but I don't care. I wanted to see you. I missed you. If I never get to do another thing in this life, I just want to be with you one last—" He froze. Now he remembered. He had said these words before. Back there. On Gaea. On the streets of Fanelia.

_"They're just . . _. rebels!" Van snapped at the old soldier. Defeated, the man stepped down. It was no army they were fighting; only a band of peasants with farming tools and a few shoddy weapons. It was an embarrassing situation.

Zaibach's army was crushed, her weapons removed, her economy and land ravaged by the war. Her people were scattered throughout Gaea now, trying to rebuild their lives, but finding it difficult. They were hated, unwelcome, especially in Fanelia. And then, something had happened. He recalled a briefing on some small situation. A Zaibach man had been attacked in town. He hadn't paid it much attention. Though he wouldn't have publicly admitted it, he held his own prejudice against former Zaibach citizens, especially former soldiers as this one had been. He'd dismissed the case. That was when the rebellions started. He hadn't thought there'd be so many of them, hadn't thought they'd have been much of a threat. And so he'd gone out personally to meet them, to put down this rebellion quickly. They'd been much more violent than he'd expected. That's when it had happened. He'd been separated from his guards and . . .

"I was injured," he said quietly. "Badly. I'd been stabbed. That's when I thought . . . I wanted to see you."

"Van, what—" He bent forward as wings suddenly sprouted from his back, filling the room with their extensive wingspan and sending stray feathers fluttering about. One settled gently into Hitomi's lap and she lifted it, holding it between them. The feather was black.

"I can't stay here," he said.

"I know."

He held her close, his wings encircling them. She slid her arms around his neck, as he leaned forward and touched her lips in a gentle kiss. "I don't . . . want to let you go," he whispered sadly. Cold hands were tugging at his arms, his wings, wrapping around him so tightly, they almost stole his breath. He wouldn't look at it, but he could sense it. Darkness was surrounding him.

She held to him tighter. "I won't let you go. I'll stay with you, Van. I—" Her arms suddenly felt empty and she realized he was gone. _"—love you."_ The unspoken words hung heavy in the air. The room was cold, empty, and dark, save for the light that filtered in through the window. She went to it, gazing up at the stars, those tiny, twinkling dots that blazed so far away. "Van," she whispered. One hand went to her chest, where a small pendant hung over her heart. She clutched it tightly, a silent prayer on her lips. Warmth and light surrounded her hand.

* * *

Van awoke with a start. Sharp pain was boring into his side. His hand went to the wound, expecting to find a bloody, gaping hole, but feeling only bandages across his flesh. "What—"

"Lord Van!" With a shriek that nearly deafened the young king, Merle pounced and wrapped herself around him. "Lord Van! You're alive! I was so worried!"

"Merle?" he questioned weakly. "Where's Hitomi?"

"Hitomi?" She stared at him in confusion. "We haven't seen Hitomi in years."

"I was just with her. I—" He stopped short and looked away. "Never mind. I must have been dreaming." She shrugged, accepting his explanation or simply not caring.

"I'll let everyone know you're awake. Don't move!" she ordered happily.

Van chuckled and winced as his body protested. "I won't," he promised. She dashed out of the room on all fours. He watched as her furry tail disappeared around the door and lay back, looking out through the window at the two moons that hung in the night sky.

"Hitomi," he said quietly, "I love you, too."

_Fin_


End file.
